


The Chaos in Coexistence

by RodeoQueen



Category: Transformers (IDW 2019), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: 80s slang, Angst, Anxiety, Asexual Character, Bumblebee (Movie 2018), Comedy, Coming of Age, Conjunx Endura, Energon (Transformers), F/M, Found Family, Gen, M/M, Mentions of homophobia, Multi, Platonic Female/Female Relationships, Platonic Romance, Post-Bumblebee (Movie 2018), Pre-Canon, Queerplatonic Relationships, Slice of Life, Swearing, not too much though we write happy lgbtq stories in this household, reader will get superpowers because i sAiD so
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:27:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25269088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RodeoQueen/pseuds/RodeoQueen
Summary: "The universe is a strange place, no farewell is truly permanent. Maybe we'll meet again after all of this.""We'll see about that shithead."Jaded by the bone-dry town that is Jasper, Nevada, you and your best friends decide to move to California together as soon as you graduated high school. Four years later, you're living in Los Angeles. It's a dream come true and you know it can't get any better. So when you and your friends get caught in a bad place and time with two alien Decepticons and the government, you remember that it definitely can get worse.
Relationships: Breakdown & Knock Out, Breakdown/Knock Out, June Darby/Ratchet, Knock Out (Transformers)/You, Knock Out/Reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 29





	1. Earth Girls Just Want To Go Out

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is based off the fact that it's canon KO and BD landed in Southwest America and were traveling around before being called by Starscream. However, it was my choice to make it happen in 1989 because I am trash for the 80s.

In this universe, you’re not alone. Humanity tells themselves they're alone in this vast darkness, that they are the ones in control of this petri dish of a planet. That their small lives equate to all the time the universe offers. Somewhere in the Southwest, a spaceship crashes down from the heavens, contrary to the false loneliness. While everyone sleeps in this disillusioned so-called land of the free, the two extraterrestrials emerge from the ground they impacted, leaving giant holes in the loose sand ground. A shattered shell of a burning spaceship crackled and groaned, sparks and flames sputtering from the ripped hull and circuits. One yellow-eyed, a mountain of blue and orange living metal, and the other red-eyed and slimmer of the former laid on the primitive earth. The dull atmosphere this water-filled planet offered was pathetic, even Cybertron’s moons had a better view. The larger Cybertronian examined the dry sand they landed on. 

“Hey Knockout, I think we landed on Earth.” 

A suave, smooth voice responded with a complaining tone. 

“Ugh, out of all the places we could have crash-landed on! A dirt planet.” 

Breakdown, the blue mech, simply kicked at the sand. A lone singed cactus stood by the two aliens, the only witness to their crash. 

“This is going to get everywhere.” Knockout grumbled, using his claws to pick at stuck grains of sand.

“Looks like the ship isn’t in commission anymore.” Breakdown leaned on the damaged hull, still posed as the incinerated metal fell to pieces upon contact. The smaller bot placed his face on his servos, in disbelief of how their journey had ended. 

The two realized they had crashed on the desert outskirts of local civilization. In the distance, they could see the lights of some sort of alt modes. 

“Let’s find a way out of here before any of the locals see us.” The two briefly scanned the desert buggies, transformed, and drove their way out of the desert. 

“We better find some new alt-forms. Primus, I look hideous.” Knockout grumbled. 

Hours later, their simple entrance onto Earth sparked private attention. 

Somewhere no common civilian knew of, a secret government building festered with new information sent over from the scene of alien activity. A few military soldiers were stationed in each room, stoic-faced and armed. Previously, the building was victim to damages and was reinforced with even more security measures. They did not intend for any new surprises.

When a small town by the Mojave Desert reported a giant explosion in the desert, they did not hesitate to send their men and best researchers over. The unaware civilians were shocked to see a line of military vehicles by their borders. Soldiers shooed away the curious and blocked the public from seeing the crash remnants. They told the locals they were collecting a fallen satellite. 

A new vehicle braked and a door was slammed close, heads turned at the new presence. Agent Jack Burns was a tall, muscular man with war in his eyes and a gritted jaw that was becoming of a military leader. He made his way over, everyone else moving out of his warpath, to the black skeleton of an alien spacecraft. 

“Is this all you could find?” He barked out to a stoic soldier who gave a prompt salute.

“Yes Sir.” 

“Is there any more evidence?” 

We have limited camera surveillance of the crash, no civilian witnesses.” 

“Were any life forms found within the ship?” 

“None.” His eyes squinted against the morning sun of the desert. He thought he was through with any more of these freak accidents. 

Jack Burns did not react to these things as well as he used to. Alien spacecrafts entering Earth were no laughing matter and after what happened in 1987, the idea of new lifeforms entering the atmosphere made him adamant of making sure they were kept out. He swore the scar on his right cheek burned upon the sight of the spacecraft. His up-close military operation from two years prior had hardened him into being more bitter and driven to avoid any more incidents. The idea of those horrific metal monsters crawling out of their damned ship and entering human civilization repulsed him. He remembered those red optics as a single swipe of its hand sent him through boxes of cargo like he was a lowly fly. 

Burns’ eyes trailed to beyond the spacecraft that was being carefully carried away. His boots sunk slightly into the sand of the desert as he followed the strange markings in the sand the desert winds hadn’t eliminated. Large indents in the ground that turned into tire treads told him everything he needed to know and proved everything he hoped wouldn’t happen. Two separate tracks told him that he’d have to worry about a pair of aliens of all things. It almost taunted him. 

“Look. They’ve probably already left the desert by now.” The previous nameless soldier examined the prints.

“Do you think it’s Decepticons again?” 

“It’s a tin can for damn sure.” He promptly turned around. 

“Send out men to track the treads. Start checking surveillance around local areas. Those freaks aren’t going anywhere on my watch.” 

_Saturday, August 12th, 1989 Time:16:50 Location: Los Angeles, California_

In California, the sun never sleeps and neither do the people. It was a hot Saturday and the locals were surfing, skating, running, and on the go all day every day. The boardwalks were full of locals and tourists that just wanted a good time. The clouds were nowhere close to the sun and the waves were shiny from the sun’s rays. Although you were a few blocks away from the boardwalk, your job let you have a full view from the counter every single day. When you weren’t busy, you’d take a long long look at the scenery. You never thought you could make it here. But here you were, living it up in the City of Angels. By living it up, you meant living with your two best friends since high school in a flat while working for a local business. 

And right now, you were doing your own thing in the near-empty store. In the afternoon, hordes of hip teenagers clambered to get the new movie releases like _Back To The Future 2_ and _Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure_. You watched them all at least three times each this morning on the tiny display TV next to you on the counter. You glared at the cardboard cutout of Tom Cruise by the window, where he posed and flashed his shining teeth at you. Almost taunting you like _Hey look at me I’m Tom Cruise, I don’t have to worry about customer service because I’m Tom Cruise._

The barely moving fan that was oscillating slower than molasses breezed by your face. The cold bottle of water you brought in at 8 am had already been used as an ice pack all day and now it was surrounded by a lukewarm puddle, soaking the paper towel you put under it. Scratching at the denim on your light blue shorts, you swear silently at the ever ticking clock. You swiveled on your stool, your white Reebok sneakers squeaking against the surface. 

Unlike Sheryl and Brooke’s jobs, you were the only employee there. No breaks for you, your boss thought you were just perfect to man the whole store. A whole store full of books, VHS tapes, vinyl, and all sorts of strange gadgets Earl kept in the back of the store. 

“How do you look pent up and exhausted at the same time?” Speak of the devil, it was Earl. He had finally come out of his office, circular glasses propped up on his salt-and-pepper hair that was to his neck. Your boss was wearing his turtle socks and old sandals again. You figured he’s worn them more than a hundred times. Something about “I own this place I can wear what I want”. 

“Heat exhaustion and customer service are quite the pair.” You deadpanned. 

Earl leaned by the counter while picking up a magazine. You put your elbows on the wooden surface and sighed obnoxiously. The lone ranger by the superhero comics turned around at the sound of your dismay. 

“You good?” Theo was Earl’s nephew from the Midwest who was going to attend UCLA in the fall, majoring in political science. Earl’s older sister Anna, who called a few months prior, brought up that Theo had gotten into UCLA but was afraid to stay at the dorms due to prior experiences. Surprisingly, Earl immediately gave Theo the spare keys to his tiny beach house by the boardwalk and let him stay for the summer. Theo and Earl’s huge resemblance was a contrast to the fact that Earl hadn’t seen him since he was three. As a matter of fact, Theo looked like a younger Earl. He had the collared shirt, big sweater, khakis, messy black hair, and braces down pat. But in this heat, Theo had only worn a Hawaiian collared shirt and khaki shorts.

Your boss squinted at the comic in his hands. Earl was always a huge pop culture geek and that’s what got him to make this store. A former underdog in Silicon Valley, he caved to the pressure. It was obvious he was a big repressed nerd in high school and he drudged through college for the fancy degree that got him nowhere. Not a day goes by when you don’t regret not going to college. 

“Is that issue #94 of StarBlasters?” Earl asked the dark-haired, thick-glasses wearing teenager. The teen nodded, pointing to the galactic superheroes on the cover of the comic.

“I’m impressed you managed to get that far. I couldn’t remember all the characters since issue #50.” 

“I know right. Once you get to the part where they blow up that giant star the list of characters just gets even longer.” 

Theo decided to leave the corner of the store he wedged himself in and instead took to the spare stool next to yours. 

“How much did you make from today’s rush hour?” Theo asked, poking the practically prehistoric cash register. 

You opened the cash register, flipped out the money that was practically thrown at you throughout the day. Your hands worked lightning-fast, eyes flashing over the money and calculating the amount like one of those fancy computers. 

“Wow, we made this many.” Earl took the money and flipped through it even faster than you. 

“Yep, we made that many.” You grin at your shared smartassery. Theo looked confused. 

“So how many?” 

“About sixty dollars. Good haul.” Earl quipped. 

Suddenly, the bells above the front door chimed. Another teenager with green board shorts and a skateboard came though, probably in search of one of the sold-out rentals. Theo seemed to still at the sight of him and you guessed his apprehension to new people kicked in. He pretended to be busy reading a random receipt you left on the counter.

“Hey, Kyle.” You could recognize his blonde mullet from anywhere. Kyle was the local typical surfer dude. Everyone knew Kyle for his constant presence at the beach. He walked in every few weeks with his crowd of friends, ready to grab a few movies and probably get stoned watching them. 

“Hey, dude!” He responded while searching the Star Wars-themed display shelf next to Earl. 

“How were the waves today?” Earl asked, scooting over to give the surfer more room. 

“Oh man, it was totally gnarly! I caught like five 360s and I even got to do an aerial.” He exclaimed, rummaging down the shelf. He stopped to look up at Earl. 

“Uh, where do you keep Back to the Future 2?” 

“Well not on the Star Wars shelf,” Earl remarked. Kyle stared at the cardboard R2D2 and laughed. 

“Oh right! My bad, dude.” 

“We rented out all of the copies we had. They sold out like hot cakes in the afternoon.” 

Kyle face-palmed. 

“Aw, man! That blows. I really wanted to watch it with the bros.” 

“Did you like the first one?” You asked. 

“There’s a first one?” Kyle asked, eyes wide. Earl looked at the tall surfer in shock at his stupidity. 

“Kyle, why would you watch the sequel without watching the first movie?” 

“What’s a sequel?” 

“Oh, Kyle.” You laughed. 

“The first movie is on shelf number five, third level down,” Theo said quietly and quickly, ears red. Kyle looked like he just noticed Theo.

“Oh nice, thanks, dude!” Kyle booked it to find the said VHS. You and Earl gave knowing looks, surprised Theo would speak up. Theo shrugged. 

Kyle did find the film and threw down two dollars on the counter. You offered him the penny of change and he simply tossed it into the tip jar. 

“Thanks for the help, bro.” He waved to Theo and he nervously reciprocated. With that, Kyle came through like a current and left the store way quieter than it was before. 

“How that kid hadn’t failed high school is beyond me,” Earl mumbled. You handed over the two dollars to Earl and saw that the clock displayed that it was your time to go. 

“Well, it looks like I gotta go.” Earl checked the clock. Stretching your cramped legs, you took your tote bag off the clothes hanger behind you. 

“Alright, see you Monday at eight.” You fist-bumped the two and walked out the door. 

Warm air and the smell of salt from the beach filled your senses as you came out. The early evening sky was a mix of orange and pink, framed by the palm trees that reached high up. The store’s simple white lettering above the blue roof stated: Earl’s Corner. Bidding the store goodbye, you set forward to meet up with your friends. 

You worked the closest to your shared apartment so usually walked to and from work. Sheryl and Brooke had jobs more inland and you guys found yourselves in a steady routine. You all had a set in stone schedule and you made it your thing to pick up those two from their jobs. A few blocks to the left of Earl’s Corner and then several more blocks to the right of the traffic stop led you to Sheryl’s work. 

A bright pink exterior building attached to the middle of the strip mall with the giant neon cursive sign “Angel’s Salon” awaited your entrance. 

The giant open window front view showed all sorts of women dressed in trendy clothing and impeccable hairstyles pampering themselves as makeup artists and other employees were hard at work. You walked into the parlor, Sheryl in the middle of it all. 

Sheryl was giggling with her client, permed blonde hair bobbing with each movement. She was busy at work doing the finishing touches with this teen’s nails. The parlor’s checkerboard floor and bright colored walls with all sorts of magazine posters and light-up decorations made Earl’s vintage poster-covered store look prudish. Sheryl’s brown eyes met yours and she waved vivaciously. Her dangly green triangle earrings shook as she beckoned you over. You politely smiled at the brunette Sheryl was working with. 

“Oh my gosh! Is it already time to go? I was so busy with Melissa’s nails I forgot! Her cuticles are like totes out of this world healthy!” Sheryl winked at Melissa, who smiled perfect pearly whites at the oddly specific compliment. 

You leaned over to see that Melissa’s nails were all perfectly gelled and precisely filed out. Her neon pink, green, blue, and yellow nails all had unique hand-painted-on checkerboard designs. Sheryl could probably paint lines straighter than a machine could. You wouldn’t be surprised if she used a protractor for some of her designs. 

“So, how was work?” You asked as Sheryl busily applied another protective coating with careful strokes, balancing the polish brush with her own manicured disco-themed fingers. 

“It was like totally like busy again! I swear that like every weekend we are all just like totally exhausted.” Sheryl gushed as she gently placed Melissa’s hands under the curing lamp. 

“Yeah, I know that. Back to the Future 2 came out and it was like a stampede at Earl’s.” 

“Oh my god! My boyfriend rented that one out. The first one was like totally amazing.” Melissa said. 

“I think like time travel is totally feasible. But like, isn’t it so Freudian that the main protagonist almost gets it on with his mom? Like, gag me with a spoon.” Sheryl made a grossed out face and giggled. Melissa looked confused but smiled along anyway. People never expected Sheryl’s intellectual quips but under that giant blonde perm and sparkly makeup, she was an encyclopedia. 

“Oh! It looks like your nails are dried.” Sheryl expertly took Melissa’s hands out and did a little jazz hand motion. 

“Tada! Isn’t it pretty!” Melissa admired her nails, exactly like the design she saw on one of her favorite celebrities. 

“Thanks, Sheryl! I’ll see you next time.” Melissa then promptly left after Sheryl embraced her over the table. 

“Totally, you have to tell me when you’re gonna get your new dog!” Sheryl waved at Melissa until she was out of the parlor. Looking around, you noticed the number of customers had died down to a few stragglers that were getting their hair cut. 

An older Asian woman with bobbed hair wearing yellow jellies walked over to Sheryl’s seat. 

After exchanging some words in Vietnamese, one of the four languages Sheryl knew, she gave you a once-over. 

“Is Earl still working you to death?” She joked. 

“Yeah, Linh he still is.” You quipped. 

“You don’t like it there, you work for me.” 

“Oh my gosh, like don’t! She’ll make you work even more!” Linh smacked Sheryl on the arm before the two laughed. 

“I don’t think Earl would appreciate that. Someone has to organize the VHS tapes.” You shrug, remembering that one time the VHS shelf gave way and you had to reshelve every item. 

“This is my best employee, you make sure she doesn’t get in any trouble. I see you tomorrow.” Linh left to go back to her desk by the door. Sheryl grabbed her purple purse hanging on her chair. 

“Bye, everyone!” 

“Bye Sheryl.” The remainder of the employees called out. With your arms linked, you walked while Sheryl practically skipped out. Her energy never seemed to run out. 

“I’m too tired to make something, do you want to get dinner?” You asked Sheryl, who was reapplying her lip gloss. 

“Oh yeah totally. I just want to lay on the couch and relax.” Sherly replied, smacking her lips for an even gloss coating. 

The sky had become more saturated in orange and pink, soon it would turn dark. While walking to Brooke’s work, the two of you looked at the show the sky put on. 

“I can’t believe we’ve been here for four years. The sky never seems to get old to me.” Sheryl nodded.

Eventually, you made it to the red brick building with the giant garage door. Moe’s Auto Shop was a popular store for avid automobile enthusiasts. Some sort of hard rock could be heard in the background next to the sounds of mechanics hard at work. The auto shop was almost humid inside and you felt even warmer than standing outside. There were at least three cars being hoisted above your heads by powerful machines and several other new models being tinkered with. Honestly, Sheryl stuck out like a pink sore thumb with her bright neon tube top and yellow jean skirt. Everyone else was clad in coveralls and heavy work boots, with a wrench usually in hand. 

“Hey, girlies, here to pick up Miss Texas?” A familiar Hispanic man called over. Ramirez was one of Brooke’s coworkers and always made time to talk with you guys. He had his usual blue baseball hat on, his mullet tied back to show a handsome friendly face with bright brown eyes. Wiping his hands with a rag, he pointed to the back of the shop, where a pair of black coverall-clad legs stuck out from under a black Pontiac Firebird. To an untrained eye, she looked like she was crushed under. 

“She’s been working on that beauty last minute. The engine’s busted and the tires had to be changed.” 

The two of you made your way around the busy mechanics and to the back of the shop. A boombox was next to her red toolbox where several grease-covered tools laid astray on the ground. Your foot hit the off switch on her silver boombox. Her long muscular legs slid out to reveal the rest of her. A red bandana was tied on her forehead to bring her long braids off her face. She raised an eyebrow. 

“I was just about to be done, I hope you know.” Her Texan accent drawled. She laid on the floor, looking at the two of you. 

“Hey, Brooke! (Y/N) and I wanna go out for dinner, what about you?” She shrugged. 

“That’s cool with me. A shake and some fries sound like a party. Wait for me, I’ll be done in three minutes tops” She said, turning her radio on again and sliding back under the car. Sheryl’s white heels clicked against the ground as she shifted foot to foot. You examined all the pin-up posters and license plates pinned on the white walls. Your sneaker tapped against the floor to the beat of the Jackson 5, humming along. 

Moments lost in the ambiance, Brooke soon came out from under the car. She placed her wrench back into her toolbox and switched off her boombox. Taking off her headband, she tied it onto her arm and got up with a huff. 

“Alright let’s go.” 

The three of you passed Moe, a giant of a man who never took off his sunglasses. He had his hand stuck right through a car’s engine, the hood popped open. 

“Hey boss, Firebird’s done,” Brooke called out. Moe grunted as a response. 

“Bye Moe!” Sheryl said, flouncing out. 

Your trio walked out together, ready to rejoice under the California sky. With her arms outstretched to hold you both, you made your way to the boardwalk. 

(as a pescatarian the idea of eating at a burger joint feels foreign hahaha) 

As you bit into a burger, Sheryl had a long-winded conversation with Kyle, who happened to also be there, at the drink dispenser. He made various gestures while Sheryl avidly spoke with her own hands. Brooke stared at the window, admiring the cars that rolled by. 

“I’m back!” Sheryl took the booth seat next to Brooke. The three of you enjoyed a simple dinner at In’N’Out, laughing as Brooke silently stuck two straws up her nose and Sheryl shot a paper straw at you. The three of you left to get shakes by the boardwalk, as per Brooke’s simple request. Sheryl waved at some of her clients who flashed their newly done nails at her, pink shake in the other hand. Walking on the sidewalk, you watched the cars breeze by you, the wind rustling your hair. 

The loudest revving of engines had you all turning your heads to see a pair of vehicles racing by. A red car and some sort of souped-up blue SUV drove by the sidewalk. Other people turned to look too, surprised at the intrusion. Brooke slurped on her shake and checked out the two raucous vehicles. The drivers obnoxiously accelerated to best each other, causing pedestrians on the street to run away and bystanders to murmur at the audacity. The larger vehicle almost tipped over at the corner and people nearby scattered to avoid a possible collision. They disappeared almost as fast as they appeared, leaving other drivers honking their horns. 

“Jeez, who drives like that?” Sheryl commented, swirling the straw in her drink. 

“Definitely street racers.” You answered.

“Yeah, but it’s like in public.” 

“It’s Los Angeles.” You elbowed her jokingly and she in return swung her purse at you. 

“Aston Martin. No idea what kinda vehicle that other guy is packin’” Brooke pointed at the two long-gone racers. 

“It was huge, never seen that model before. Some sorta military vehicle maybe?” She mumbled to herself. You soon collectively ignored what just happened and continued your conversations. 

By the late evening, you all went back to the apartment. On the second floor of an orange building, you and your motley crew practically kicked open the door. Sheryl threw her heels off and Brook went to her room to change out of her work uniform. You practically crash-landed onto the red fake leather couch you guys bought from a flea market. Sheryl rummaged through the fridge before sitting right next to you. A cold sensation on your right leg made you look down. An unopened carton of Haagen Daz stuck to your leg, little pieces of ice sticking and melting on your bare leg. You scooched over to the left and Sheryl moved it to her lap, ready to devour the whole thing. 

“Sheryl, you literally just had an ice cream shake.” 

“Yeah, what about it?” She ripped open the tub with that evil look in her eyes. 

“Oh, I know you ain’t fixin’ to eat all that without me.” A thump on your far right told you Brooke had arrived, clad in yellow pajamas. She stretched, propping her leg on the armrest of the couch. You turned on the small box TV, a few moments of static leading to some diet infomercial. You flipped through the channels, looking for some movie. News channels about some major oil spill and something about one of Bush’s popularity ratings came up and you continued clicking the clunky remote. 

“Girls, isn’t it like crazy how we’ve known each other for almost eight years?” 

“Is this the part where we have flashbacks?” Brooke joked, sneaking a spoonful of Sherl’s cherry ice cream from Sheryl’s spoon. Sheryl smacked her lightly, calling her something that sounded Chinese. 

“Isn’t that my line?” You said. 

“But seriously though. This is like a dream come true. Who knew we could have ended up in California, living together!” 

“Everyone else only dreamed of it back in Jasper.” You said proudly. 

Brooke held up three glasses and a wine bottle. You didn’t know how you didn’t see that earlier. Oh well. 

“I ain’t going down memory lane sober.” She drawled, passing out the glasses. Sheryl balanced her ice cream on her other knee while holding out her glass for wine.

“Pass that shit over here.” You sighed, ready for whatever happened when the three of you were inebriated.


	2. Earth Girls Just Want To Leave Town

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wine always leads to flashbacks..........

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry for taking a break for so long! Miss Rona fucked up a lot of my senior year plans and I had to reroute. 
> 
> Anywho, this chapter and the next will be very backstory-heavy. After these two chapters, the plot will really get going (I promise). I want to write about those two robot himbos as much as you want to read about them.

Six years before…..

JASPER NEVADA, 1984

Life in Jasper was boring, despite Nevada being tied to Area 51. None of the rumored oddities and aliens ever showed up. You spent a lot of time outside of school staring at the sky, hoping for something interesting to happen. 

Wake up, breakfast, walk to school, pay attention, eat lunch, go back to classes, go to your after-school activities, walk home, do homework, dinner, read, listen to your beat-up radio, pray for a change, and go to sleep. It repeated until summer vacation. And that’s when things got slightly interesting. Wake up, breakfast, go outside, read, watch TV at the local rental store, say hi to any kids from school that you met on the street, lunch, read another book, go to the rental store again, go home, dinner, write in your diary, pray for a change, and go to sleep. You didn’t think you could survive another school year alone with the emptiness that was Jasper. Eighth grade was a few months away and the idea of the same routine again was not ideal. 

So when the new neighbors came knocking at your door to say hello, you knew things would change as you caught eyes with your new neighbor, an encyclopedia-holding, pig-tailed girl wearing all pink. Sheryl Fei was from San Francisco and her presence added a splash of color to your life. She came over the next day, peering over your fence to see you reading Close Encounters by Steven Spielberg on your front lawn. 

“That’s a good book.” You snapped your head up in surprise, unaware that anyone else in this drab town could talk to you about any of the books you read. 

“Do you want to be friends?” You blurted almost immediately. She smiled and jumped the fence. She rolled next to you on the grass. 

Hair in twin buns and bright purple overall shorts, she was a sight to behold. From then on, she was next to you every day. All summer, she had changed things up. 

Wake up, breakfast, go biking with Sheryl through town, get ice cream with Sheryl with your collected pocket money, go to the library and then get kicked out for laughing too hard, have lunch in either one of your houses, go swimming in the creek, catch fireflies, dinner, send each other morse code messages with your flashlights until you passed out from exhaustion. 

Sheryl was a unique person. She had that valley girl voice that all the other girls in the neighborhood impersonated, hoping they could pass as Californians. Besides, she was one of the only Chinese girls in Jasper. She loved going by the tiny salon in the mall, looking at the designs on the posters. Even when you went to the rental store with her, she would point out the styles and haircuts the actresses had on the tapes. By the time eighth grade rolled by, you expected her to part ways, now finding new friends to hang out with. But it didn’t happen. 

Sheryl may have joined the cheer team and student council, but she still walked to classes with you, ignorant to all the girls who asked her to sit with them. Every day, you hung out and did everything together. 

Now, eighth-grade summer came quicker than you’d expect and things were still the same with Sheryl. Despite cheer camp that happened outside of school, you would wait with a heavy book in hand, waiting for her to finish being thrown into the air. Eighth-grade summer was slightly different, the near edge to high school. You and Sheryl prayed every day that you could never be parted from your schedules. You guess your prayers were slightly off. 

“What do you mean we only have English and Maths together?!” Sheryl cried, shaking the paper in her hands. You shrugged. 

“It’s better than no classes?” You offered but Sheryl practically threw herself on her pink canopy bed. 

“This isn’t fair! Why Murphy’s law?!” She hollered, her mom yelling at her to quiet down. 

You laughed at her antics. 

That same year, Brooke had rolled into Jasper High. Her dad, a previous Texas ranger, had decided to retire in Jasper after years of service in Houston. Living a few miles away from school, everyone could hear her dad’s pickup truck the whole way over. She was the tallest person in your grade, at a perfect 6’0”, showing up to school with cowboy boots. The three of you all had Math and English together, while Sheryl had Chemistry with Brooke, while Brooke and you sat together in History. You’d never forget how Brooke waltzed into your lives. One day, after Chemistry, she had mosied her way over to you and Sheryl’s table and slid onto the seat across from you two. 

“So y’all friends?” She asked. 

“Yeah, we are.” You said. 

“You mind if I join?” She said with a confident smile while cracking open a can of sweet tea. The three of you bonded almost immediately. 

That freshmen summer, Brooke’s existence brought another layer of complexity to your summer plans. 

Wake up, grab breakfast, meet Sheryl outside, bike to Brooke’s house, go around town, visit the rental store, the mall, and loiter around the car shop until you got kicked out, get lunch, go back to the library, bike with Brooke to her house, go home, dinner, talk to Sheryl via flashlight, and then go to bed. 

Brooke was a real automobile enthusiast. She didn’t do anything outside of school besides hanging out with you guys and loitering at the school shop classes. Sheryl was genuinely convinced all of Brooke’s electives were shop classes. You bet three dollars and a stick of gum that Brook could disassemble and rearrange an engine with her eyes closed in one minute.   
It all paid off sophomore summer when Brooke started working for a local car shop. That was the same year an employee got fired at the rental store, and you were practically shoved into work for the summer. Sheryl didn’t really need a job, the local girls were paying her in cash to do their hair, makeup, and nails anyway. Her sweet and patient personality made her a hit for parents who wanted a babysitter. 

You had the best four years of your life with those two, but the idea of living in Jasper for the rest of your life wasn’t your way to go. You knew it wasn’t the case for those two either. Sometimes you guys found yourselves sitting on Sheryl’s patio, staring into the orange sky. It was the same sky every day, and you bet you had seen every speck of sand a million times over by now. The three of you enjoyed each other’s company; but in these moments, you knew that adult life in Jasper would dry out your spirits. In the silence, you guys stared off, wondering what was out there for you. If there was anything. 

Your junior year summer came, and the change you dreamed of started in an idea.

On the first day of break, the three of you had been biking and roller skating around town and took to rest sitting on your driveway. The silence happened again, and you broke that long-held pause in time. Your parents accepted those silences, and now they were trapped here in this drab town, having accepted that it was all it was ever going to be for them. 

“What are we going to do?” You mumbled, staring at the setting sun. 

“Tonight?” Brooke asked, not knowing what your question meant. 

“No, I mean after all of this? After we graduate, are we just going to keep working or go to college? Here?” You loosely gestured to the dry roads and desert land. 

Brooke shrugged. 

“I don’t reckon I’m just going to stick around and clean the same pick-up trucks and beaten up cars. Sure I like a good routine, but I can’t see this being forever either.” Sheryl, who was leaning against a telephone pole, shook her head. 

“My family moved here after they like sold our family store to do some better business. Some wise idea that was for my social life. It’s so boring here.” She joked. 

“I mean, I had a lot of fun here with you guys-” You said, picking at the weeds coming out of the broken concrete.

“That’s because of us. This town is bone-dry.” Brooke quipped. 

“I don’t want to stay here. But where will we go?” 

“College is not the move, I see myself being a mechanic. But I ain’t gotta clue where,” Brooke mumbled, looking at Sheryl, who was thinking again. Brooke removed her sunglasses, honey brown eyes squinting at the setting sun. Her dark skin shone under the golden glow of the sun, face cool and composed. 

“California,” Sheryl said quietly. You and Brooke looked at her in surprise.

“It’s a total dream to live there.” Sheryl’s eyes shined with some old nostalgia. 

“It’s not a bad idea,” You smiled, but in your mind, you felt uncertain. You’ve never been outside of Jasper. 

“Are you sayin’ we should all go to California together?” Brooke asked, incredulous. 

“Of course it’s totally gonna be us together. I don’t like ever see myself without you guys,” Sheryl said in all seriousness. 

“Do we have enough money saved to even go?” You asked. Rental stores didn’t pay much, and you didn’t feel the need to spend much either. A few slushies and a discounted novel bit little crumbs into your ‘bread’ but you still had a few stacks on hand. 

“Oh totally not. But we can get there.”

You remained in silence for a few more moments, the gears turning in all of your heads. 

“I like that. I don’t think anyone has gotten out of this town to Cali in a real long time.” You added. California sounded amazing but foreign, a lot could go wrong. 

“How much do you reckon it costs to be livin’ out there?” Brooke asked, having not said anything in a while.   
Sheryl thought for a moment, her brain doing calculations. 

“Well, my cousin Alex lives in San Francisco still. He told me a few years ago that it cost him and his roommates like about 500 bucks. There was a down payment too.” You gave her a look.

“That much?” You wondered out loud. Sheryl shrugged. 

“Yeah but like it was a two-person apartment and he had three roommates.” She said. 

You sighed, thinking your dream was deferred.   
Brooke sat up, previously resting on her elbows. 

“Y’all. Let’s make a deal.” She said with determination. You and Sheryl stared at her, intrigued. 

“By the time we graduate, we should have earned enough money to get moving to Cali. I reckon it’ll be expensive, but we should see it through,” Brooke spoke in that strong voice of hers, the one that carried through the air and froze the sand specks that lingered. 

“What will our parents think?” Sheryl suddenly brought up. 

“Who cares? It’s our lives,” You said, gesturing to the three of you. 

“It’s a deal then,” Brooke stuck her hand out and yours and Sheryl’s impeccably manicured hand were put together. 

“We’re gettin’ out of this dust bin.” The universe stayed silent, respecting your promises to each other. 

So senior year had arrived and you were more than ready to graduate. You had spent the whole summer working full-time. You assumed the same was for the other two. The rental store had become more dilapidated in your eyes as you aged. What was once a store full of windows to Hollywood and cartoon worlds soon became a store full of old VCRs no one really wanted to watch and ripped up labels. The charm had slightly faded, but you still cherished the place. It’s just that you had seen Gone with the Wind enough times to recite all the lines. You still can’t deny you expected to see more. 

You woke up before your alarm on the first day of senior year. Like a robot, you repeated your routine for the morning. Throwing yourself out of bed, you quickly went to wash your face and brush your teeth. You brushed your hair while walking back to your room. In the summer, you decided to give away the brunt of your belongings, opting to sell them for the extra cash. It was mostly just old books, clothes, and a few collector’s items for things you weren’t into anymore. You decided to keep the furniture as your parents pleaded for you to keep in case you visited again. Only a desk, a dresser, and a still well-stocked bookshelf remained. A simple outfit of jean shorts, a t-shirt, and sneakers was thrown on and you grabbed your backpack to get out the door. Your windbreaker was in your locker if you ever got cold. You managed to sneak out a cereal bar and an apple, holding both in one hand as you opened the door with the other. Sheryl was waiting by your mailbox, waving with a big smile. 

“Last first day of school!” She cheered as you shut the door. 

“You know it.” 

The two of you walked together to school, and you felt relief that it was her and Brooke that paid you company for these four years. Brooke had recently gotten her license and took to it to drive her dad’s pickup truck to school every day. You envied her for that, but you lived so close to school for a car to make a difference. Sheryl had failed her driving test almost every time she took it. Six times apparently, and then the instructor begged her not to show up again. 

“So, how’s your personal beauty business going?” You asked her. 

“Oh great, a lot of people are asking me to do their nails! I’ll probably get a boatload of cash from prom this year from our grade.” She shrugged. 

You continued on your way to school, seeing everyone else making their way over as well. By the school’s parking lot, you saw Brooke’s red pickup truck at the first parking spot to the school door. A familiar curly head of hair popped up from the door and hopped down, landing on a fresh new pair of Nike Blazers. Brooke shut the car door and took off her sunglasses, opting to put them in her dad’s old brush jacket. She placed herself next to you, leaving Sheryl in the middle of this crew. 

“Nice earrings, Sher, Brooke mused as she flicked at the dangling decoration. She laughed and smacked at Brooke’s arm. 

“Wait! Before I forget!” Sheryl’s eyes went wide as she swung her backpack around and rooted about the pink bag. 

She took out a polaroid with an ‘aha!’ noise. 

“Let’s take some photos!” She said as she already started snapping images. You and Brooke posed as you could, making silly faces and gestures. Sheryl bumped into Tommy Sanchez, the six-foot-three star quarterback, as he tried to get through. 

“Tommy! Help me take a photo please?” Tommy smiled and offered his hand at taking a few lopsided photos of you three. 

“So, scrap-booking?” He asked as Sheryl hugged the two of you for a photo. 

“You know it!” 

He dropped the camera into Sheryl’s hand and said a quick goodbye after Sheryl thanked him.   
She took the photos, shaking them like mad as she put away her camera. The bell for the first hour rang. 

“Oh, gotta go! I have Honors Physics!” Sheryl quickly ran off, white platform shoes lost in the crowd. 

“Well, Mr. Miller ain’t waitin’ on me.” Brooke promptly left to tend to her first-hour job as Shop class’s teacher’s assistant. 

You had AP Literature, one of the only APs the school offered. The teacher Mrs. Miller was a patient old woman who basically gave the class free reign as she was not planning to care for what high school seniors wanted to do in their time there. 

You had lunch with those two, this time opting to eat in the back of Brooke’s pickup truck. The metal lunchbox that you had since elementary school was dented and faded but it proudly held your lunch of sandwiches and a banana. Brooke whistled, tossing you a can of soda that she got from the vending machine. She pushed herself up onto and over the truck and sat with her own can of sweet tea. Sheryl took out her decked out bento box, passing you and Brooke a dumpling with her chopsticks. 

“I watched a freshman set his birdhouse on fire and I sprayed him with an extinguisher,” Brooke stated, pushing her sunglasses up. You snorted, imagining the poor kid. 

“Aw, did Mr. Miller like totally get mad?” Sheryl asked, popping a spoonful of rice in her mouth. The carbonated bubbles tickled the way down your throat as you took another swig.

“Hell yeah, kid’s not allowed in the shop for a week,” Brooke answered as she threw her empty sweet tea can into the garbage can several yards away. Several thunk sounds were made as it fell into the garbage.   
Your trio enjoyed simple conversation about classes and the party Jane Smith was throwing that none of you were planning to go to. Finally, the bell rang and you all hopped out of the truck to get going. 

“Do you have work this weekend?” Sheryl asked as you both walked to Calculus, while Brooke went to her Finances class. 

“Yep, like every weekend. California funds remember?” You dodged a few basketball players as you went to upper A hall. 

“Let’s all like hang out Saturday night. My house as usual,” She said. 

“Oh okay, that works. I’ll tell Brooke.” 

“I’m like so excited, we should get some movies!” 

“I’ll snag some Westerns.” She slid onto her seat in the front, as you took the rickety desk next to her. 

The same joys of being with your best friends, the routine at the rental store that was now facing bankruptcy, your mantra of “we’re gettin’ outta this dustbin” echoed for a year.   
Word got around quick your senior year, as Jasper’s student body was basically five people and a cactus, and people doubted your desire to go to California. 

“You’re gonna be broke so quickly.”   
“The jobs are super competitive.”   
“You’ve never even been!”   
“But Sheryl, we’ll miss you! Who’s gonna be the sixth member of our sorority?!” 

You ignored those doubtful people, none of them knew how much work you did to get this far. How many times Sheryl went to a vocational school for cosmetology three towns over and did her homework in the car and the number of times Brooke was undermined at the car shop. You all had years of work under your belt while everyone else was busy trying to make their small town more glamorous than it actually was. So you didn’t pay them any mind, knowing you already made it with your mindset. 

When the May weather came, Sheryl immediately made another space in her calendar for you to come over. You didn’t even know why she bothered to ask anymore. This time, you and Brooke came lugging in stacks of cash that you kept. You sat on Sheryl’s giant canopy bed with pink curtains, a lantern in the middle of the mattress. Sheryl took out a pink box with three locks on it from under her bed. Brooke raised a brow at Sheryl. 

“What? I want some privacy?” Sheryl defended as she unlocked the box, revealing neat envelopes labeled in glitter pen. Brooke came to the sleepover with an old fashioned storage box with a lock. It was made of worn wood and looked like it was polished often to preserve its look. 

“My ma used to store her letters in here,” Brooke said quietly, caressing the lock.

You and Sheryl exchanged soft-eyed looks at each other. Brooke opened the box gently as if she would shatter it if she moved too fast. Stacks of twenty-dollar bills could be found neatly tucked inside. She took them out stack by stack by her crossed legs. Sheryl also began taking her envelopes out, counting, and writing on a pad of paper. And then it was you. Your boss paid you in checks solely, and you used your old lunchbox to store the cash you withdrew from the bank a few days ago. The teller gave you a strange look as you asked for all of your balance to be taken out for cash. You were lucky no one really robbed people in Jasper. 

Sheryl’s nails clicked on the calculator she rested on her knee. Mumbles of “gas money...taxes...groceries...down payment…..” were heard under her breath as she continued. You and Brooke helped neatly place your earnings and shut the hell up for Sheryl’s convenience. An hour of double-checking the math and making a list of things that needed funding, Sheryl made a final tally up and circled a few things. 

“Okay. We managed to make about 1500 dollars.” Sheryl said, showing the math on her notepad. 

“Holy hell.” You exclaimed. That was certainly enough for a comfy nine-hour drive over. 

“I called my cousin, remember Alex?” Sheryl asked before continuing. 

“Well, he said he knew a friend whose like roommate has a friend whose like god-uncle is moving out of his flat in Los Angeles.” Although excited and mildly confused by the line of characters, you continued listening. 

“He said that since he’s leaving in mid-May, he already paid for the whole month of May.” You and Brooke both stopped and made the same face of realization. This could lead to a big relief to your budget. 

Sheryl grinned, her voice getting higher and higher. 

“Since like, we’re graduating next week, I figured we could maybe get going the next morning after the ceremony?” Sheryl suggested, brown eyes twinkling. 

“But what if someone already places a price on that flat?” You asked, hating to be the spoilsport. But someone had to ask the question. 

“That’s what I’m worried about.” 

“Do you have the number to the landlord who’s selling the flat?” You asked, hoping to get some reassurance. Sheryl nodded. 

“We’ll really have to get going.” 

“My parents knew I was leaving Jasper, I don’t think they’ll take it well to going so early.” You said, picking at the blanket. Brooke shrugged. 

“You know, y’all, if you have a plan B, you’ve already failed,” Brooke said, eyes staring blankly into the lantern’s light. 

“You’re right. Even if we don’t get that place, we’ll be able to find some other one. We might just have to go somewhere else in California.” Sheryl said, unwilling to choose the latter decision. 

“Let’s do this. All or nothing.” You declared, adamant in making this happen. 

The other two girls nodded. Sheryl’s initially serious face dropped quickly and she smiled impishly. 

“So, are you excited for any cute boys you’ll see in Cali?” 

You snorted at her question. She rolled off the side, smiling. 

“The boys back in San Fran were like so cute. I had like a gazillion guys to crush over.” She gushed, hands on her face. 

“Girl-” Brooke started before doing her ‘exhale-laugh’. 

Once again, the serious mood was dropped and the three of you awaited graduation. 

When graduation did happen, you snuck out of alphabetical order to sit with Brook in the front seats. Everyone was decked out in long gowns and caps. Sheryl had hers bedazzled with pink gems to match her heels, a colorful contrast to the black and white-suited teachers next to her. The old principal who was probably a racist made his boring speech with a warbling microphone. You were about to fall asleep leaning on Brooke, the local Amazonian. She nudged you firmly and pointed to Sheryl, who was getting on the podium. As valedictorian, she had to make a speech. You and Brooke looked at the parent section of the football field, picking off where her family was almost immediately. Her dad, wearing a red vest over a collared shirt and tan khakis, had made himself comfy standing in the front row, camcorder in his hands. Her mom sat in the middle seat, a shocking identical to Shery. However, she was much more stern and opted for a fully white dress. Sheryl had an air of false confidence around her as she smiled and placed her hands on the side of the wooden podium. 

“So like hi.” A small wave of laughter went through the crowd. 

“Shut the hell up!” Responded Sheryl’s mom, turning to face the crowd. 

“You keep going, sweetheart! The tape’s still rolling.” Her dad called out, smiling and giving her a thumbs up. She looked at the two of you and you both beamed at her.   
She took a breath and continued. 

“Being Jasper High School’s 1985 valedictorian is like a huge honor. I can’t believe it and I’m totally incredibly honored. It wasn’t easy-” She looked slightly up, pondering for a second.   
“Actually yeah it was like really easy. To me, it wasn’t about the grades. It was about learning more than anything. It’s like so important to remember that life is more than numbers. It’s like about being determined even if it rains and your outfit and perm is like ruined. And I couldn’t have been able to like find the capacity to do that every day without family and especially my friends, Brooke and (Y/N).”

Several adults awed at her comment and she smiled. 

“I mean like, look how fierce they are! Like the cowboy boots are so in season! You’re like totes killing it, Brooke” The mentioned girl gave a silent thumbs-up. 

“And don’t get started on (Y/N), raow!” Sheryl made a paw motion and rolled her r’s, making the seniors laugh. 

“Ms. Fao-” The principal started.

“Um actually, it’s Ms. Fei.” She interrupted, eyes narrowed. You heard Brooke exhale a little forcefully, suppressing a laugh. You swear you needed a copy of this footage from Mr. Fei later.

“Anyways, knowledge is totally cool and all but like friends are like the gel coat to the manicure of life. They support and protect you so you can like shine your brightest. Being valedictorian is pretty fun, but it’s like big whoop! You have the rest of your life to go after your passions, you can’t like chill now. Chase your dreams, tell your friends you love them-” 

She promptly turned to look at you guys. 

“-Love your family, and go make yourself proud. Okay, I’m done now!” Sheryl cried out as she clapped for herself, the crowd following. She skipped her way back to your friend group, ignoring her seat by the principal, who tried to lead her back to her seat. You hugged her tightly, smelling strawberries in her dark permed hair. Brooke patted her on the back, a proud look on her face. 

“Did I do good?” She asked. 

“Oh, you did perfectly.” You answered. 

The rest of the ceremony was so boring, you could’ve ordered a pizza waiting for your name to be called. One of the teachers caught you and practically dragged you back to your assigned seat and you were so ready to bash your head on the chair in front of you. 

Brooke got called up before you and she simply took her diploma with a straight face. She gave a strong handshake to the principal and Mr. Miller. You cheered with a handful of other people. You could see Brooke’s father sitting in the middle, poker-faced with a look of pride in his face. You assumed she must have taken more of a resemblance to her mom.   
Finally, it came to you. Sure, four years of the ‘best years’ of your life were being celebrated in this one moment and it was nerve-shattering for you not to mess up your walk up there. Your name was called out, you took careful steps forward, and you took that diploma, hastily walking off the stage. You made eye contact with your parents, who looked nonetheless pleased. They were bittersweet about this ceremony, as it was a sign of your coming of age as an adult but also the sadness of seeing you finally leave after this. 

After the part where you all threw your caps into the air, time became a blur. You could only remember taking pictures outside Jasper High, walking back home, and having a final dinner with your mom and dad in fast motion. In the evening you barely slept, looking at the ceiling and wondering what the future entailed. Until after the next morning’s breakfast, had time finally slowed down for you. 

You spent most of the early, early, oh so painfully early morning packing things into Brooke’s truck. The early desert sun reflected against the red-brown finish, a somber color that reminded you of what was to come. Sheryl’s father insisted on helping with Sheryl’s ridiculously giant suitcase, full of her clothes and shoes and other accessories she claimed were important. For appearances, she held onto a way smaller pink suitcase that had wheels and a handle. Brooke had two medium-sized brown suitcases that she kept in the backseat of the supercab, where Sheryl would be sitting. She didn’t mind, as long as she got to choose which restaurant to stop by on your ten-hour trip. Speaking of which, you watched in amazement as Sheryl packed several blankets and pillows into the second cab, planning to spend her time in the backseat as comfortably as possible.   
“Sher, I don’t reckon you can put a whole full-size teddy in the back,” Brooke warned, slightly peeved at Sheryl’s hoarding problem. Sheryl pouted and sadly handed her five-foot-tall teddy bear to her father, who promised to take care of “Mozart”. 

You managed to get between their little tirade on what was okay to bring to squeeze your suitcases in the leftover space in the trunk. Your school backpack now carried your license, ID, wallet, and other on the go oddities you deemed important. You called shotgun the night before, and so you threw that mint-condition backpack onto your worn seat. 

“Where’s the cash?” You asked, interrupting Brooke’s tirade with Sheryl, who stomped her sandals in mock-frustration. 

Brooke pointed to the spare cab, where one of her suitcases laid tucked under her driver’s seat. 

Sheryl, the defeated debater, decided to go say goodbye to her parents. Her father, the sensitive Mr. Fei, was practically sobbing while her mother sipped a cup of hot tea, reluctantly patting him on the back. The Fei household spoke rapid Chinese to each other, probably telling Sheryl not to talk to strangers and other basic common sense Sheryl usually neglected to listen to. 

You guessed it was your turn then. For the whole evening before to now, time passed unimaginably fast. You wondered when it was gonna slow down for you. 

It happened when you embraced your mother and father, slightly teary-eyed. You had been a distant teenager, wanting so badly to get out and go do bigger things. Your parents had been relentlessly accepting of that to your surprise. You recall clinging to the group hug, thanking them repeatedly as they reassured you that it was all alright. 

“Call as often as you can.” With a final comforting squeeze, you made your way to Brooke’s car, with Sheryl honking the horn when Brooke wasn’t looking. In the shotgun seat, you took a breath and wiped away the tears before they could fall. Brooke laid a hand on your shoulder, patting you. 

“Ain’t no reason to start crying over new beginnings.” She mumbled, putting the car on drive. Sheryl hugged you from the back of the car. In the front mirror, you watched as your families waved away from their block. They slowly became ant-sized in your vision as Brooke droved farther and farther away. You passed by the rental store that now was vacated, a “for sale” sign the only thing left at the door. The high school, the burger joint, a few sparse stores, they all soon became distant memories as you drove out of town, the green sign saying Jasper marking that you were finally leaving. You sighed, leaning your head to watch the side mirror. When Jasper became a dot in the rearview, you unfurled the map Brooke left in the cup-holder next to the giant coffee thermos she managed to fit in.   
Sheryl flicked on the radio, filling in the solemn silence.   
You guys drove out, watching the desert for the last time for a long time. 

“So, either we can keep crying over being a few miles out of town or we can get to helping me navigate.” Brooke teased as you and Sheryl snapped out of it. Sheryl leaned back to her seat, releasing you from her embrace as you pointed out which road to take.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be half backstory and half-hangover recovery.


	3. Earth Girls Just Wanna Get Brunch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sundays are for the girls.....and conspiracy theorists....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After being dead for a month, here's a brunch chapter with multiple plot holes I refuse to cover up better 
> 
> This chapter didn't end up how I liked it but I would be stalling the story too much. I hope you can somewhat enjoy it. I promise the good part is yet to come.

The melancholy of finally leaving town left you as fast as the discomfort for sitting in a car seat for a few hours set in. Feet propped up on the dashboard, you hummed along to the radio. Sheryl had been working on a sudoku page but she was soon passed out asleep in the back. The bright afternoon sun was blinding as you drove on a busy highway. Brooke’s fingers tapped against the wheel, she was probably as pent up as you are. Even with all the fruit Sheryl’s dad stuffed into her lunchbox, you all managed to finish it within the first two hours. 

“We’re stopping.” Brooke’s low and slow voice declared, breaking the background noise of other cars and the wind passing the car. You took your hand off your chin as you looked around for any rest stops. A green sign passed you with the various gas stations and restaurants near the closest exits. Brooke lowered her sunglasses, looking at the sign and taking her eyes off the road. 

“Alright. Exit 84 it is.” She quickly took the car up a ramp off the highway and onto a business district between Nevada and California. You had no idea where you guys were. The number of different stores was already a huge indication this wasn’t a small place like Jasper. The different gas stations were astonishing enough. 

Brooke whipped the truck into a perfect parking position next to the closest gas station. The truck heaved at her heavy brake, jerking Sheryl out of her snoring. An orange and green-themed store blared its lights on a sunny day. You leaped out of the car, groaning in relief as you could finally stretch your legs. Several cracking noises ensued from your rusty joints. You turned around to see Sheryl blink her weary eyes awake, surrounded by fuzzy blankets. 

“Are we there yet?” She asked, stretching out her arms. Brooke checked the gas price and whistled. 

“Well, Toto we sure as hell ain’t in Jasper. Gas here costs an arm and leg.” She scowled. 

You grabbed your wallet from your misshapen backpack. 

“I’ll stay here. Get some gas going for the truck.” She called out as you and Sheryl bounded for the linoleum-floored store.

You always had a fondness for gas stations whenever your parents occasionally took you out of town. No matter where or how often you went, it never seemed to feel boring to explore the aisles. Before you knew it, you found yourself holding onto bags of snacks and beverages in hand while Sheryl filled practically a bucket full of cherry slush. You managed to sneak a can of stick-to-your-hand-cold sweet tea from the freezers for Brooke, knowing she would need it. She drank sweet tea like it was going out of fashion. Kicking and rubbing the front of your shoe against the slippery floor, Sheryl joined you in line. The two of you practically dumped your horde of goods onto the counter, the jaded teen clerk grumbling as he ringed up your total. You paid for the gas and gratefully took the white and red plastic bags. 

Brooke was leaning against the truck, taking in the afternoon sun. You handed her the watery can of sweet tea and a purple bag of barbeque chips. Sounds of crunching, sipping, and crackling plastic bags were all you heard for a few moments. You finished your drink and Brooke headed to the bathrooms. 

“Our drive is gonna be a couple more hours. We should totes have lunch in California.” She suggested, gingerly clutching a small fruit cup. You agreed, throwing your trash into a nearby can. 

Earlier, you had remembered waking up on the couch, Sheryl draped over you snoring. You managed to drag yourself out, being sure not to wake her up. For some reason, a box was resting in her limp arms and your movements loosened it from her grip. The pink cardboard box slumped to the ground, its content spilling out. Brooke had dozed off sitting upright.  
Eyes bleary, you rubbed them as you stated to collect your bearings. The clock by the kitchen told you it was 9 o’clock and you breathed out a sigh of relief Earl closed up shop on Sundays. You got up, groaning at the slight wine-headache and your cracking back. While you walked out of the living room, you slid suddenly and landed on the wood floor with a thud.   
“Shit.” You mumbled as you got back up. A polaroid was stuck to your foot, the culprit to your fall. You swiped it off your heel and examined it. 

It had crumpled in the corner where you stepped on it. On the white border, the date 9/1985 was neatly written in pink Sharpie. Freshman year you and Sheryl smiled at you, a frozen window of a previous time. You smiled faintly and your grin dropped when you realized that there were polaroids everywhere on the floor. 

Red faced and giggling, you laughed with Sheryl as you went through pictures of yourselves from her secret stash. Brooke had forgone the glass and went straight for the rest of the wine.

“Oh my god! Look at my hair!” Sheryl wheezed, clapping in joy. In the picture, a younger Sheryl beamed at the camera, long dark-hair almost down her back. 

“I can’t believe you’re blonde now!” Sheryl over-exaggerated flipping her hair, hitting her head on the lamp. Brooke nearly fell over laughing at the sound her cranium made against the lamp. 

Brooke held a picture of herself when she had afro puffs. 

“Look at how damn cute I was.” She slurred, leaning on the couch. 

You sighed, remembering all the pictures you guys took throughout the years. Looking around, it would take forever to clean up all the photos.

“Oh my god! Hold your glass right!” Sheryl offered her glass while she sat on the kitchen floor. Brooke shakily poured her glass full before trying to refill yours. 

“Wait, no. I’m good.” You refused, already having your third glass. 

“Haha! Sucks for you. Pass it to me-” Brooke poured Sheryl’s glass a little more as you sighed. 

“We should do something.” Brooke said, hand on her hip and pondering. 

Sheryl crawled away and you took a cold soda out of the green fridge. 

You were happy those two drunkards didn’t break anything, seeing how tanked they were last night.   
Teeth brushed, hair untangled, and outfit changed, you mosied out of your bathroom to find Brooke already making coffee. Luckily, she had already put her silk scarf on before the festivities really started. She stared at the wall, lost in thought. 

“Morning.” You called, checking the clock to make sure you were still on time. Brooke nodded off and then snapped back awake. 

“Mornin’. Hold on, no it ain’t.” She yanked the blinds by the sink, bright lights streaming out the glass. She sighed, taking out her favorite red mug and waiting for the clunky old coffee machine to work. Sheryl mumbled and shifted on the couch. 

“Do you have work today?” You asked as Brooke poured you a spare cup of the bitter liquid. 

“Yeah, I’m working the night shift though.” You nod before ingesting some coffee. 

The two of you shared some meek conversation, deciding to grab brunch once Sheryl managed to wake up. In the meantime, the two of you managed to clean up most of the polaroids and stack them on the kitchen table.You scooped up all the photos while Brooke sat by Sheryl on the floor to organize them on the coffee table. Half an hour later, after five tall piles of photos and another cup of coffee, the esteemed “natural blonde” rolled off the couch. 

“Ugh…” She murmured. Her hair was a practical rat nest and an imprint of the couch was on her right cheek and arm. 

“Bout time. Drink some water and get dressed, we’re getting brunch.” Brooke snapped, jokingly slapping her back as she tried to get up. Sheryl weakly slapped her back, hitting her arm. She walked off to her restroom. You quickly stole her spot, flipping on the TV. The sound of the shower then the sound of Sheryl opening her makeup cases and hairdryer promptly followed. 

Before you knew it, Sheryl came out of her room like she was ready to walk the red carpet. How she managed to get ready as quickly as she did was beyond you. Brooke wolf-whistled and grabbed the keys. 

Cullen’s was a decent hole in the wall diner you and Sheryl found a year into living in LA. The brunch was amazing and whenever you could you'd visit. The California brunch time was warm but not-too-hot and a slight breeze preceded you by your seat. The farthest table outside was practically claimed by your trio and it was almost law that you would sit there. That’s where you were, feet propped on a spare chair and sharing a third of a newspaper. Sheryl fanned herself with the second third whilst Brooke read the sports section. Your eyes glanced at the small strip of comics, reading all the punchlines and trying to do the crossword without a pen over your plate of brunch. A strong gust of wind caused Sheryl’s paper to unfold and the ad page smacked the egg on Brooke’s plate. 

“Sheryl, have you ever read a newspaper?” Brooke tutted as she peeled the gray paper off the yolk. 

“Like to check the date?” Sheryl shrugged, taking a sip of orange juice from her straw. Brooke rolled her eyes and took a bite out of her English muffin, an audible crunch from the baked treat. Sheryl, who was previously leaning on you, seemed to have stilled in contemplation. 

“It’s August 13!” Sheryl exclaimed, poking you with a long pink nail. 

“And?” You asked, curious why it was a matter of importance. She pointed to the date, waggling her finger over the printed 13. 

“Next week is the anniversary of the day we like promised to go to California.” Brooke lowered her paper, eyes blank. 

“Wait really?” She took a sip of her mimosa, nodding. 

“Yeah, I remembered. You were wearing those Levi's 1970 501 mid-thigh shorts with that red tank top you still have in your left drawer and (Y/N) was wearing those Wrangler overalls and that Looney Tunes shirt. You gave it away at that yard sale.” You and Brooke gawked at her while she twirled her straw, a giant grin on her face. 

“I got that photosynthesis memory!” She exclaimed, pointing to her temple. Brooke snorted into her cup and you snickered. 

“I still can’t believe we’ve made it this far.” 

“I’m surprised we like even managed to get here without any troubles. It went really well! I guess I slept through most of it anyway.” Sheryl laughed. You and Brooke exchanged glances, both of you equally guilty. 

“Yeah. Everything went pretty smooth.” Brooke stated, hoping to change the subject. 

“Like, remember the people who we were trying to outbid for the apartment? Like I was genuinely convinced we weren’t gonna get it and they just like never showed up again!” By then, you and Brooke were quiet, remembering what you did that day. 

You and Brooke knew the people trying to outbid you in the apartment were winning. They were some rich snobs a few years older than you, definitely packing more cash than you could even imagine. The apartment, orange exteriors and off-white interior had you already imagining you making your way up the stairs after a long day of work. The landlord promised to continue negotiations after both parties decided to grab lunch prior to the decision. You and Brooke almost ripped those girls a new one when the landlord broke it up and demanded you to come back in one hour. The two of you didn’t have the heart to comfort Sheryl, who sat in the In’N’Out with an inherent depressed look. A dream possibly deferred, your first meal in California was quiet and disappointing. 

You wondered what the universe would give you next, the good after the bad. You closed your tired eyes, hoping that the deaf universe would open its ears to your thoughts. “Come on. Give me a miracle, a chance, anything to make this work for us.” You prayed, sipping on a red straw. 

So when the familiar white Ferrari drove over and parked far away from the restaurant, your eyes widened at the coincidence. A firm squeeze on your leg made you face Brooke’s steely eyes. She pulled you close. 

“Bathroom. Now.” She whispered. 

There you were, sitting on a sink while Brooke stood with her arms crossed. 

“Now. I reckon we both saw and thought the same thing.” 

You nodded, teeth slightly gritted. The silent plan unfolded as Brooke buffed out her nails and you rolled up your jacket sleeves. In the girl’s bathroom, make-up touches and compliment exchanges were often happening, but so was mass sabotage. 

“No matter what happens, Sheryl will never find out.” Brooke handed you several bobby pins pinning her stray curls away and she stuck the sharp nail file in her back pocket.   
“Damn right,” Brooke smirked. She left first, leaving you in the bathroom. Heart racing, you understood what you needed to do. You tried to do good but today you asked for karma to schedule an appointment later.   
You put your hood up, shoving the few bobby pins into your pocket. By the laws of nature, that posse came in a herd. You quickly turned the faucet on, washing your hands as if an innocent bathroom trip was all this was. The two girls ignored you, hair done perfectly, and clothes immaculate. They both went to the stalls. You decided not to stick around, palms perspiring in anxiety.   
“Momma didn’t raise no quitter.” You whispered as you dashed for the outside. The cameras didn’t focus on you, all pointed to the outside and the rest of the dining area. You quickly bent a bobby pin into a 90-degree shape, pressing it into the keyhole. Checking for witnesses, you found none as the lock clicked into place. You shuddered from the adrenaline influx. You spotted an abandoned janitor’s closet. You wondered if the universe was giving you these three lucky occurrences as a “don’t ever ask again” sign and you thanked it all the same. You found it opened ajar and you hastily found a neon yellow “Do Not Enter” sign in the haphazard mess. Placing it by the ladies’ bathroom door, you sighed loudly before having a slight smile grow onto your face. 

You quickly joined Sheryl’s company and Brooke came back a minute later, hands in her pockets and whistling a tune. 

“Well you guys, it shouldn’t matter where we choose to live. I guess if we have each other that’s enough.” She said, slightly defeated. You patted her back as Brooke stared off into the distance. 

“Maybe we should get going. The landlord is going to want us to come back.” 

“Yeah, you’re right. Let me go to the bathroom-” Sheryl was dragged back onto the seat faster than she could get up as you and Brooke exclaimed “No!” at the same time. 

“Uh-it’s like really gross in there.” You stammered. 

“I found a heroin needle in there.” Brooke quickly stated after you as she quickly went to throw out your trash and you nearly pushed Sheryl out of the joint. 

“Well, alright I’ll hold it! Geez!” Sheryl exclaimed while you and Brooke made it out of the scene of the crime.

When the landlord sighed at the absence of the other party, he gladly gave you the keys and you all signed the papers hastily. Sheryl was elated, thanking however was up there for the flat. In your group hug, you and Brooke made nervous yet smug eye contact. You wouldn’t tell a soul. 

Days later, when you and Brooke were out buying groceries, you decided to ask. After loading up the paper bags of fruit, soda, and coffee grounds, you whispered to Brooke. 

“Hey, remember those two girls?” 

“What about them?” She said as she started the car. 

“What did you do to their car?” 

“Gutted their engine like a fish.” Brooke smugly said, making a right turn. 

“You guys?” Sheryl cut into your flashback as Brooke ordered another mimosa. You coughed. 

“Oh yeah. Wonder what happened to those two.” 

“Probably didn’t think it was that great,” Brooke added. Sheryl shrugged. 

“Well, it doesn’t matter anymore. But come on, let’s like do something we never did before on that day!” 

“Like what?” You asked, sneaking a bit of lukewarm breakfast into your mouth. 

“I don’t know? We should totally do something cool, like maybe go explore the rest of California.” 

“That’s a lot of California.” Brooke joked. 

“Oh hush. Let’s go see some sights!” Sheryl pointed to the San Gabriel Mountains being displayed on TV. 

“Hiking?” You asked, staring at the screen. 

“Why not? We can take so many cute pictures.” Sheryl suggested. Brooke contemplated it. In the brief silence, Sheryl groaned. 

“Girlies, we’re only gonna be young for so long! We’re like in our twenties, we’re gonna be old before we know it. Let’s take advantage of this summer before we really have to work for our thirties.” 

That made sense to you and so you agreed. And begrudgingly, so did Brooke. 

“I’d rather be under a car fixing the engine but hell, let’s celebrate our independence.” She rolled her eyes. Sheryl put her hand in the center of the table, expecting you two to follow. Hand on hand on hand, Sheryl giggled. 

“This is gonna be so much fun!” 

The following evening, while Brooke was at work, you and Sheryl started planning things out. While you threw together some Aglio e olio, Sheryl had rolled out a map you didn’t even know you had. 

“How’s the hiking trip coming along? Do you know if Linh will give you the whole weekend off?” You said as you plated the beautiful carbs onto a yellow plate. Sheryl shrugged.   
“I mean, she loves me so like I don’t see why not.” 

“Earl will probably tear me a new one but why not?” You sigh, eating straight out of the pan. Sheryl dragged her plate over, twiddling her fork. 

“We all know Moe would let Brooke do anything.” She took another mouthful of pasta and got up to throw the plate in the sink. 

Meanwhile, a questionable distance away....... 

The locals living by the Mojave Desert were more than happy to sell off the scraps they picked up from the mysterious crash. This happened obviously before the prying military came and they quickly sold it off to get a few quick bucks. Of course, one wackjob knew another, and the dented but surely out-of-this-world relic was sent down a line of theorists and alien believers. And now, it was on a poker table in some bar's basement, previously bubble wrapped and kept in a box.

"Look, this thing is definitely out of this world. I can bet you that I really bought this alien tech from that auction a few days ago. They got the military all over the crash site," Lebowitz boasted. 

A familiar head of salt and pepper hair chuckled as he gingerly took the slightly singed alien tech. He whistled as his careful hands traced the strange texture of the metal. It was almost seamless, not a single line where it would have been assembled could be found. 

"How much?" 

"You know it's two hundred." 

"Aw geez man, was hoping you'd drop a few bucks." 

"Don't be cheap, Earl." Earl shrugged and took out his wallet. 

"Alright, alright." An exchange of hands was dealt and the now recognized Earl took the strange relic with a glint in his eyes. 

"Why did you want this so badly?" The elusive seller asked. 

"This weird little disc may be the final piece of the puzzle, my dear Lebowitz." 

"Is this the robot thing again like last time?" 

"Of course it is. I've been looking for anything falling out of the sky ever since they had that little military sweep a few years ago. Remember Brighton Falls?" 

Before Lebowitz could answer, Earl waved him off. 

"Well Lebz, what's important is that when robots are a reality to everyone, I'll be the one to prove it. This ain't crop circles. Something's crashing down."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll try to update more often..please..forgive me...
> 
> Like, comment, and subscribe! I love you all. Life right now is really hard but we'll all get through it.


	4. Red and Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Knockout and Breakdown get some screen time. And it's so so soft.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah college applications, online APs, and being the school newspaper editor is really eating up my time. I promise that I'll update once I can finally get some more downtime.

#workskin .times { font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; text-indent: 2em; }

The two contrasting “vehicles”, a formidable hunk of blue and a lithe form of red, parked in the public parking lot after a great deal of driving around this strange human-inhabited land.   
The moon was inferiorly small, the technology a joke, and the terrestrials loud and easy to scare. The two had finally been ready to recharge and the mood was of exhausted curiosity and in a way, indifference. When you could grasp the stars and fly to the edge of the universe, the common dirt of Earth can feel less than standard. 

In the dark, the red Aston Martin flashes its headlights. 

“Breakdown.”   
The blue SUV did not stir, as it was supposed to. It’s a fucking SUV….. right? 

“...Breakdown.”   
A moment of silence occurred again. The red car revved its engine slightly. 

“Breakdown!” A small honk was emitted from the blue SUV as the multitude of headlights flashed on. The vehicle seemed to move to the side as if flinching. 

“Yes?” A deep voice finally responded. Although Knockout was still in alt mode, Breakdown swore the latter was rolling his optics. 

“Primus, finally you grace me with your response.” 

“What’s the matter? Can’t recharge?” 

“No, it’s that we’ve been stuck in alt mode for two days!” 

“But you love drivin’ around new places!” 

“Breakdown, this little planet is so boring! I’m rusting at the seams stuck in alt mode.” He whined. 

“I’m not sure if our distress signal ever got picked up.” 

“This is the pits.” 

“At least we have each other.”   
“Sure.” The SUV was visibly taken back, wheels leaning away from the red vehicle on its left. 

The sounds of metal rearranging and shifting echoed softly through the night. A giant red robot stared at the blue SUV. Despite the several foot height difference, Knockout still didn’t look all that much bigger. 

The bot stretched and made noises of satisfaction as audible sounds of metal gears shifting about came from his joints. The SUV whirred in approval. 

Breakdown shifted and easily towered over the red robot. 

“That’s better.” He vented, stretching his arms over his helm and knocking over a metal sign. The dingy sheet of metal hit the cement with a flimsy clang. 

“Aw scrap.” Breakdown turned his helm to see that Knockout was staring into the sky. 

“What’s wrong?” Knockout vented and his red optics shined like stars in the dead of night. 

“I want to go back on our ship. This planet is pathetic.” Breakdown knew that his partner was in that mood again where no jokes could make him scoff and crack a smile. Then again, Breakdown doubted he ever failed at that. 

“Yeah, those flesh bags are pretty gross, I bet they’d explode if I stepped on em’.” He added to his macabre comment a demonstrative stomp with his pede. 

Knockout turned away from the blue bot, rolling his optics and scoffing. 

“Crude.” He commented. A grin made it onto Breakdown’s face.

“Come on, that was funny.” Breakdown insisted as he made his way closer to the withdrawn latter. He placed a servo on Knockout’s near-perfectly buffed shoulder. Well, as perfectly buffed down as two weeks of non-stop driving on a foreign planet after crash landing and skidding a couple of units off on cold desert sand. The two were pressed closer as the blue mountain of metal clumsily held the red mech. 

“If the amount of flesh bags bother you, we can probably find someplace else to go. Just you and me. No squishy flesh things.” The red bot relaxed slightly, arms uncrossed and glancing at the blue bot’s helm. An unmeasurable silence carried through the air and the two stood in silent conversation. Finally, the red bot spoke. 

“I’d like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll try to update another chapter this weekend.


End file.
